


Sleepy Hollow

by jessica988



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25718578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessica988/pseuds/jessica988
Summary: Was blessed to be able to write a Halloween theme fic for the Kristanna Calendar Zine this year. The best and greatest holiday there is let’s be honest, so decided to be a bit spooky with it as it should be. So, here we be with this and also, major shout out to @punkpoemprose for putting it together & thank you @feistypaants for reading through this monster and just being a good friend :D Really had fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy reading it as well :)
Relationships: Anna & Kristoff (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	Sleepy Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> Was blessed to be able to write a Halloween theme fic for the Kristanna Calendar Zine this year. The best and greatest holiday there is let’s be honest, so decided to be a bit spooky with it as it should be. So, here we be with this and also, major shout out to @punkpoemprose for putting it together & thank you @feistypaants for reading through this monster and just being a good friend :D Really had fun writing this so I hope you all enjoy reading it as well :)

The town of Sleepy Hollow, Kristoff decided, was like a small ink blot on a map: noticeable to those who paid mind but one most deemed was not big enough to worry over. It was a grungy village, barely a town even with it’s small population. He was sure that in Spring it was a cute town, one filled with flowers blooming and blue skies but not now. 

Now, the town of Sleepy Hollow was masked in grey. A dark, gloomy air seems to have set in over the village. Which given the circumstances, fit the bill. 

Kristoff wasn’t at all excited when they’d offered, more like forced, him to come to the small town to investigate a mystery. One that had plagued it’s inhabitants for well over a few weeks now. 

Strange deaths, specifically beheadings, were plaguing it’s residents. Creating an air of fear that sent most villagers scrambling to their homes or wherever they were heading even during the day as Kristoff had witnessed earlier.

Three people had died thus far, according to the reports, all as gruesome as you’d think. There were no relations, as far as George Westergaard could tell. He was the leader of the town, newly established as his father had been one of the victims just days earlier. Even he, who knew everyone and everything that went on within the village, could not distinguish the truth of the events. 

The towns folk had convinced themselves that it was a curse, a story as old as the town itself that had come to haunt them. 

It was said, according to Mr. Westergaard, that a soldier long ago from the American Revolution who had been killed had now risen again to find his now missing head. 

Stories such as these used to fascinate Kristoff, now however it just made him roll his eyes. The idea of an apparition rising from the grave, come to torture the town in search of his “missing head” seemed absolutely ridiculous. Surely it was a towns member out for revenge of some sort or conducting a dark plan with a grand result. 

It was Kristoff’s job as a constable to establish the truth behind the mysterious deaths. It was a paycheck sure, but he had a feeling they’d put the job on him as no one else would take it. 

A large man, they most likely thought he’d be able to handle himself fairly well here. No fear of their dear constable not returning. However, he had a hunch that his fellow coworkers would not mind if he never returned. They didn’t hate him per say, more hated his methods. Kristoff fought for truth, for justice while many of his other fellow constables rather work for the pay and nothing more. 

It was infuriating at times, to be ignored, to be silenced, to have your conclusions and evidence completely looked over in favor of some ridiculous theory that would garner more money. Kristoff hated it, and them, but he swore himself to a duty, to protect and save those he could. So he did, begrudgingly, till he could find the path that was destined for him. 

As his mother used to say, they all were destined to go down a path, it was up to them to discover it. 

For now, it seemed, that path was leading him to this god forsaken town.

**—**

She was the last thing he expected to find here. He’d been told there was only one inn, a small place along the outskirts.

Judging by the building itself, and the rest of the town, he expected an old maid who’d be hesitant to give him a room. Kristoff had prepared himself to argue with the woman as he traveled through the forest, noticing the slight unease he felt as he journeyed. 

It was as though eyes were on him, watching him as he traveled on Sven towards the inn. 

Still, Kristoff tried to focus on the task at hand and not the oddness in the air. He ruffled his hair as he made his way to the door, adjusting his jacket as he knocked. It only took a few moments before someone appeared.

“Yes?”

Kristoff blinked, staring at the woman who’d answered the door. She was no maid, oh no. She was young, near his age he surmised, with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. “Um..” he stammered, shaking his head to gather his thoughts, “I’m here for boarding?”

“Oh!” the woman called, opening the door as she smiled at him. “You must be the constable everyones been talking about, please do come in!” 

Kristoff followed her, still taken aback at her beauty. He didn’t expect to find someone so stunning, so completely opposite of Sleepy Hollow. 

Anna Rendell, as he’d soon discover, was co-owner of the boarding house. She and her sister owned it, taking over after the tragic death of their parents years before. 

She was a bright, vibrant light, a complete contrast to the town she called home. It showed even in her clothes as she was sure to wear vibrant colors, a flower in a field of weeds.

Anna smiled constantly, laughed at nearly everything and talked whenever someone would listen. Which, now with his arrival, became Kristoff more often than not. 

She’d question him on his work, on his previous cases, what he’d learned or what even the city life was like. Whenever he’d go out to investigate or question someone, Anna would always be up waiting with a cup of tea and questions prepared. 

It was surprising, to Kristoff at least, to see someone so interested in the work he did. She’d ask questions that even himself didn’t think to consider, pointing out certain observations that Kristoff had not seen.

He wouldn’t lie in saying it was beneficial, to talk his thoughts aloud, but he couldn’t help but feel a hint of suspicion. 

“It sounds lovely.” She said dreamely one gloomy afternoon, both stuck indoors as a heavy rain moved through. “I dream of going to the city.”

“Really?” For some reason, the idea of that surprised Kristoff.

“Oh yes.” Anna said, putting down her tea, her red hair falling into her face just so and gods did Kristoff wish he could push it back himself. “My sister does not know but, I envy city life. Though this town will always be home I…” She looked around the room then, seeming to take it all in, “I hate it here. Too many bad and horrid memories that I wish to get away from. Especially now.”

Kristoff nodded at her, understanding as he took another sip of his tea. 

“Though I doubt Hans will want to move there…he doesn’t love the idea of the city as much as me it seems.”

Ah, the wedge and thorn in Kristoff’s side. 

Hans Westergaard. The youngest of the largest family in town, and the most powerful, next to Anna and her sister. The Westergaards had a tight grip on the village, owning several small shops and being in a position of power for many years. Seeing as they had thirteen siblings, including Hans, they had more than enough family to hold the town within their grasp. 

Anna’s father & grandfather also held leadership roles, though not nearly as strong, but they seemed to have been well liked by all. A far contrast to that of the Westergaard family who were more respected out of fear.

Naturally, the two powerful families would come together in marriage to keep hold of their influence in town. After meeting Hans, however, he was surprised that Anna would fall for such a man. 

He was, in short, a snob. There was not an event, dinner nor conversation that Hans found something he did not like, making sure to comment on the fact itself. He seemed to destane the town and every resident, except for Anna. Though, there were a few times Kristoff wondered if that was even remotely true.

Hans was everything Anna wasn’t. As Anna would speak with the residence with grace and kindness, being sure to treat all those around her the same as anyone else, Hans would be sure to put everyone down with his words and piercing eyes. 

It seemed more and more as Kristoff spent time with them both that the marriage was simply one out of convenience, and not out of love. 

They were the same age, seemingly the only ones to be so except for Anna’s sister who Anna claimed was not the marrying type. 

Kristoff had only seen her sister a few times, moving around the house to assist in cleaning and managing, but she kept to herself most days. 

Didn’t matter to Kristoff much, he’d rather spend more time with Anna if he could anyways. 

“You think he may change his mind?”

Anna hummed, frowning towards the fire, “Highly doubtful. His family is here, along with their business. He claims he’ll have a hand in the business someday so he doesn’t want to go too far if that was the case.”

Pity, Kristoff thought, following her gaze into the fire, he’d take her to the city, anywhere she asked in a heartbeat.

But he wouldn’t tell her that.

**—**

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Giving Sven carrots.”

“I think you mean, spoiling him.”

That earned him an eye roll. “I’m merely showing him some love and appreciation, that’s all.”

“Are you saying I don’t do that?”

Sven brayed and to add to injury, nodded his head as though to say yes. Anna threw her head back in laughter, the sound making Kristoff’s heart race. 

A sound he hoped to hear again and again if he could. 

“Traitor.” He murmured to Sven, earning him another bout of giggles.

**—**

Another murder, another death and one that Kristoff is taken aback by.

It’s another Westergaard, a middle brother named Brom. 

This wasn’t in a field or within the forest while he was traveling, but instead in his own home. 

It’s a gruesome scene, one that even gives Kristoff pause. The horseman, or whomever it was, left no one behind. 

Brom’s wife was also taken, lying near her husband within their home. 

The mortician places a cloth over his mouth, eyes wide as he steps into the scene. “Good God.” He mutters. 

Kristoff watches the man, how his hands shake as he slowly makes his way to the victims. He watches everyone, from George to even the curious villagers outside. He must be keen to everyone’s reactions, to their emotions, to it all. 

It only takes one slip up to give it all away. 

A surprising note was the appearance of Mr. Westergaard. He was the burgomaster of the town now sure, and though it was his duty, Kristoff found it interesting and almost perplexing that the man was able to step foot into where his brother had died. 

Still, the man stood beside Kristoff, jaw clenched and Kristoff took note of the paleness on his face. 

It was duty, then, that brought him into the door. Nothing more. 

The mortician, to his credit, looks over the bodies dutifully. He takes his notes, jots down what he sees and information he gathers from the tools in his kit and then stands a few moments later.

“Well?” Mr. Westergaard spoke, eyes never leaving from his brother’s body. His voice shook just ever so. 

“Same as the others, sir.” The mortician said, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. “Clean, smooth cut by a sharp instrument. Most likely an ax as the witnesses claim.”

The man nodded, still staring at the victims that lay on the floor. 

“Anything at all unusual?” Kristoff asked.

“No sir.” the mortician said, taking his leave before another question could be asked. 

Kristoff took inventory of the room, scanning over everything within. Dinner was on the table, now cold but set as though they were ready to eat. 

The one thing that seemed out of a place was a glass. It was a spare, an extra, as the two full plates of food had their own already filled. This one was on its own, away from the others and empty. 

Though as Kristoff peered inside, he saw remnants of what he presumed to be wine. 

“Was your brother expecting anyone?”

“I don’t…” Kristoff looked back to the man, George’s head bowed and shaking, “I don’t know, to be honest with you.”

Kristoff nodded, asking his next question gently, “Anything suspicious or odd happen at all lately? Anyone angry with him or…?”

Mr. Westergaard shook his head, “No sir I…everything seemed perfectly fine. He was friendly to all as far as I was aware. Never heard a complaint about him…”

Kristoff stayed quiet then, thinking over his thoughts. 

Whomever came to his home last night, they came under the guise as a friend and left as anything but.

**—**

It was later than Kristoff intended to stay up, the fire merely a few crackling embers now.

His brain was going a mile a minute, exhaustion nor sleep overcoming him and so, after lying in bed he made his way downstairs to the living room.

He’d been attempting to read a book, the name escaping him and really, he couldn’t focus on the words along the pages.

Rubbing his hands across his face, Kristoff groaned in frustration.

“Kristoff?”

Startled, he jumped slightly, turning to find Anna standing in the doorway. Her hair was down, a thick blanket wrapped around her that was so large it engulfed her. 

“Anna?” He asked, confusion in his voice. “It’s late, why are you up?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

Fair. 

“Can’t sleep, too much going on.”

“Oh,” She said, looking down to the floor, “I suppose you’d want quiet then to go through your thoughts, I can–”

“No, it’s ok. Truly.”

She smiled at him, a soft, sweet smile that Kristoff came to favor. “Thank you.”

He watched her move to the love seat, sitting down and tucking her feet beneath herself and the blanket. She wrapped the thick blanket tighter, her eyes to the fire, and after a moment, Kristoff asked, “What’s keeping you up so late?”

Anna bit her lip, a telling sign that Kristoff learned meant she was nervous, “Nightmares.”

“Oh.”

“Childish, I know…” Anna said with a huff.

“No, nothing wrong with having a nightmare.” Kristoff said, “Well, obviously having a nightmare is not the most ideal, but it’s not childish.”

Anna looked to him, the small smile returning. “Thank you.”

“If you don’t mind…what was it about?” Anna looked away once more, causing Kristoff to sputter to recover, “I mean…if you want, you don’t have to but sometimes, I know for me, it helped to talk about them…get it out of your system so it’s not stuck in your head anymore.”

Anna sighed, looking over to him again, “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Would never.”

Anna chuckled then, seeming to enjoy his teasing. When she stopped, she spoke again, “It was the horseman.”

“Understandable.” 

“I know…I know he’s not real, he can’t be but…”

“Dreams have a funny way of making you think otherwise.”

“Yes, that they do.”

Kristoff watched her, saw the worry and fear behind her eyes and he felt a pull, a tug to open himself up. To talk. 

“When I was little, I used to have nightmares all the time.” Not able to face her, he looked to the fire, staring intently into the burning embers as he felt her eyes on him. “My mother, bless her, she would tell me tales from her homeland. Some were fun, spritely adventures but others didn’t bode as well with me.” He paused, the old memories of his mother tucking him in, holding him close as she murmured the tales to him as she fell asleep coming to mind. “I had nightmares about fairies for weeks.”

“Wait, what?” Kristoff looked over, a smirk forming on his face at the view of Anna smiling wide, a giggle in her voice, “You had nightmares about fairies?”

“Hey, to be fair, I was barely 10.”

“They’re harmless.”

“I know that now, but I was terrified of them back then.” Kristoff chuckled at the thought, “Used to fear being led astray by them.”

“Or wake up with knotted hair.”

That made them both laugh. They stayed up a while more, talking more of old fairy tales they’ve been told, what they’d feared when they were kids, what bits of mischief they got up to. 

Apparently, and not surprisingly, Anna had gotten into quite a lot. 

Somehow, they’d both dozed off, Kristoff awakening to the embers of the fire nearly gone. Anna was fast asleep on the love seat, curled up and wrapped tight within her blanket. 

He nearly left her there, seeing how comfortable she was, but something told him it wasn’t right. So gently, cautiously, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to her room. 

He didn’t miss the small hum she made as he held her, nor the way she seemed to bury her head against his chest.

**—**

The inn was just over the hill, the familiar end of the path just coming into view.

“Faster Sven.”

The horse grunted, winding through the trees as he made his way up and up. 

Kristoff should have known not to stay within town into the night, knew the risk of the killer turning his gaze toward him. He knew the chances and yet he still dismissed them.

Now, clutching his side as he felt warm blood pooling into his hand, he hated himself for dismissing the idea so easily. 

They’d been surprised. Traveling slowly through the forest, taking their time as to allow Kristoff to think over the events of the day when he’d emerged. 

Kristoff had felt the hair on the back of his neck raise, catching his attention before he saw the man and horse behind him. 

It was a black horse, completely engulfed and nearly camouflaged in the night if not for the shine of the moon. But the horse was not what gave him pause, what made him pull back the reins. 

The rider on top of the horse was cloaked in black from head to toe, if the rider had a head. Where a head was supposed to be, there was nothing. The collar of the cloak surrounded nothing but air. 

Kristoff had simply furrowed his brows at the figure, confused but also hyper aware of just how far he had left to return to the inn. 

The rider acted quickly, the pain hitting Kristoff before he realized the man, or whatever he was, had even thrown something. 

He’d clutched his side, realizing he’d been deeply grazed by what he could only assume was a thrown knife. 

“Sven, GO!”

The chase had started, both galloping through the forest. He could hear the galloping hooves even now still close behind him, noting the sound of knives whizzing past didn’t come anymore. 

He’s out of weapons. Kristoff realized, looking back to see that the idea was only partially true. Instead, the rider now held a large, iron ax, seeming to gleem in the light of the moon. 

No way the rider would risk throwing it, but if he got close enough…

They were at the top of the hill now, the inn just below them and Kristoff leaned forward as far as he could to try to get more speed. 

He was lightheaded now, the feel of the reigns no longer recognizable in his hands as they began to go numb, but he tried to hold on till he reached the inn. 

As they made it to the bottom of the hill, he realized he didn’t hear hooves behind him anymore. He glanced back, just able to make out the image of the horse and rider stopped at the top. 

_Odd,_ Kristoff thought, _why not follow?_

Another bout of searing pain came over him, causing Kristoff to clench his eyes closed as they came up to the front of the Inn. 

Kristoff all but fell out of the saddle, stumbling to his feet as he heard a door open somewhere in the distance as he leaned against Sven for support. He managed a step, looking up to see a familiar head of red hair running to him, a muffled voice of concern and calling what he thought was his name, as his legs gave out from under him and he collapsed onto the ground.

**—**

Anna simply stared at him, eyes wide with shock at the tale he told of the night before.

He’d awoken to find himself in his bed, his side aching. More surprisingly, he was shirtless, shoes removed, and the wound was now clean & stitched up. 

He’d gone to sit up, grunting as he did and he heard his bedroom door open to reveal Anna coming in with a tray in hand.

She’d managed, with her sister’s help, to get him into his room. They’d addressed his wound, removing his shirt in the process to get a better view and to be able to clean & stitch it. 

He’d slept all day, Anna at his side as she’d wiped his brow, cleaned his wound, gave him water while he laid unconscious. 

She’d explained everything as she handed over a warm cup of tea, a toast with jam as well for good measure that Kristoff ate greedily. 

As he ate, Anna had checked his side, looking over to be sure it was healing as best it could and he prayed she’d missed the dark blush that came when she touched his chest without hesitation. 

It was then Anna had asked for an explanation, to what had brought him injured and nearly dead on his feet in the middle of the night. 

Story now finished, Anna turned her now pale face to the flames, eyes still wide. 

“So…is he real?”

Kristoff sighed at that, rubbing his hand over his face, “No, he isn’t real.”

Anna whipped her head back at him, now confused, “But you saw him yourself? The headless horseman nearly killed you just a night ago.”

“He may have appeared headless Anna, but he was no apparition. He was real, he was human. It was a disguise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“What apparition or ghost do you know of that can throw solid objects?”

“This is different though, he could manage it I’m sure.”

“Anna…”

Anna bit her lip then, clenching her hands as she looked at him in worry, “I just…I don’t want to accept the fact that someone in our town is killing us, killing innocent people.” She looked down then, shoulders slumping as she did, “It means one of our own is a trader, a murderer and…that’s honestly a more terrifying thought than an ax wielding ghost.”

“I know,” Kristoff said gently, trying to ease her worry. “I’ve seen what some men will do for their own gain, how they’ll risk everything for ridiculous splendors.”

Anna looked at him then, a sad look on her face, “I can only imagine all you’ve seen, especially in the city.” 

“The city is not as kind as you think, unfortunately.”

She bit her lip once more, and Kristoff wanted so much to lean forward and rub his thumb across it, to will her to stop. “It’s just…whoever this is, they have no care for what they do.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean…they have complete disregard to those they’re hurting, to those they’re taking away. They killed Han’s father, the burgomaster of the village of all things. It destroyed Han’s, he didn’t leave his home for days after that. Then the pastor, the farm boy too, now Brom and god’s even his wife couldn’t escape their ax and now you I…”

He stood then, coming over as tears began to silently fall down her cheeks. Kristoff knelt in front of her, gently taking hold of her hands as she took a shaky breath.

“I fear the worst for us all. Who they could go after next and what if…what if it’s us?”

“No harm will come to you Anna, or your sister.”

Anna looked down at him, “How can you say such a thing with such confidence?”

“Because I won’t let them.” He said, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand, losing himself in her blue eyes, “Anna, I will not let anyone lay a hand on you, I swear it.”

She smiled then, one that made Kristoff’s heart soar at the site. 

There was a moment, a feeling that filled the room that Kristoff was sure Anna noticed as well as her smile fell as she licked her lips lightly. He watched her as she did, looking back to find her eyes intently on him, her cheeks red with what Kristoff could only assume was a blush. 

He decided to take a chance then, feeling a pull to lean forward slightly in hopes that maybe she’d follow. 

She did, following his lead as she leaned down towards him, her eyes leaving his as she looked down at his lips.

A door slammed open then from below, making them both jump and Kristoff move to stand. 

Immediately, Kristoff missed the feel of her hands in his. 

The moment was lost, the air thick with awkwardness as footsteps echoed below them.

“Anna?”

Anna stood, confusion on her face as Hans’ voice called after her from below. “I should…”

“Yes.”

Krisotff kept his head bowed, avoiding her gaze as she hesitated for a moment, but just a moment before she headed out the room and down the stairs. 

He dressed quickly then, berating himself for even trying, for even thinking he should try. 

She was _engaged_ for fuck sakes. If they’d been caught she’d been ruined, casted away and he’d be to blame. 

_Idiot,_ he thought as he made his way down the stairs. _How could you be so selfish?_

“Hans, that’s kind of you but I’m fine, really.”

“I just wanted to be sure.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Anna said as Kristoff came to the final step, their voices carrying as he made his way to the living room. “But it’s you I’m worried about. Brom just died, are you sure you’re alright? I expected for you to be grieving with the rest of your family.”

The couple came into view then as Kristoff came to the doorway. They stood in the middle of the room, Hans’ arms wrapped loosely around Anna’s waist. 

Kristoff clenched his jaw at the site, wishing it was him who was holding her instead.

_Stop it._

Hans looked over at him, causing Anna to turn as well. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Kristoff said with a solemn nodd, trying to sound as respectable as possible. 

Hans glared at him, Kristoff not missing how his grip tightened around Anna. “I appreciate the kind words, but I wish they were not needed.”

“It takes time to solve these things, I’m trying my best.”

“Maybe your best is not enough.”

“Hans.” Anna said, whipping around to look up at him, “He is doing all he can.”

“That may be so,” Hans said, releasing his hold on Anna and taking a few steps towards Kristoff. Never before had Kristoff been so thankful to be as tall as he was, as now he was able to look down on the snooty man before him. “But will it be enough?”

“I can assure you, it will be.”

Hans hummed, casting his eyes down and Kristoff did not miss where his eyes had landed before he looked back to him “That remains to be seen.”

**—**

Kristoff fully expected Anna to avoid him, to leave him be after the mishap in his room the day before. It had been a mistake, at least that’s what he told himself to ignore the sadness that lingered from his failed attempt.

Instead, Kristoff was surprised to find her acting as though everything was just fine. 

He eyed Anna during breakfast the next morning, watching as she hummed over the eggs, asked what his plans were for the day in case she needed to prepare for anything. He wanted to apologize for his boldness, for nearly ruining her good name by a selfish move. 

Her smile though, the way she moved around with such happiness, completely carefree of all that was going on, kept him from speaking. 

He answered her questions with a smile, chuckled at her antics but it did nothing to heal the twinge of pain in his heart.

**—**

It was midday Sunday, one that had been surprisingly sunny.

Anna had decided to take advantage of the fact and had convinced Kristoff to come along to the town to walk through the market. They’d decided to walk to the town, to take in the moment of fresh air and sunshine.

“It won’t be anything like the city but, it’s nice all the same.” She said, her arm looped through his as they came up to the edge of town. 

He looked at her, seeing the broad smile on her face, taking advantage of the moment to squeeze her hand lightly. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

It was. Though not near the vast expanse of venues and goods the city would have, the village did well having everyone gather near the town square. They sold what they had: fruits, bread, sweet pastries, meat, fish. It was a wide variety for such a small population, impressive even. 

Kristoff had been able to see more townspeople than he had the weeks staying here. They were all smiling for once; no one hurrying to their homes, to escape the roads in case they ran into the supposed horseman. They greeted him warmly, chatted about the day, the weather, the food or things they were selling. 

Anna seemed to be exactly in her element, asking them all about their families. How their jobs were doing, if their sick relative was doing better, if they ever did get the pup like they said they were. Each family had a new subject, one that only Anna seemed to recall. 

Seemed the sun had brought some light to the town, a change within them that nearly reflected the light Anna held every day.

Then it happened.

A scream echoed through the village, coming to the square that made everyone freeze.

Kristoff looked around, having the advantage to see over everyone and spotted the woman. She was desperately trying to scurry away, crawling on the ground away from behind the shop off in the distance.

Instinct kicked in and he darted towards the woman, realizing as he came closer to her that he’d seen her earlier before but he couldn’t place a name. 

He came to her, kneeling down in front of her as she shook, mouth still agape in pure horror. “Madam,” Kristoff said, trying to pull her eyes to him and away from whatever it was she saw, “Madam, miss, please you need to calm down.”

Kristoff reached to touch her shoulders, but the woman flinched away, not even looking to him to see who he was. 

“Eliza?”

Kristoff turned, seeing Anna standing above them now. “You know her?”

She nodded as she knelt, “She’s the school teacher.” Anna grabbed his arm, pushing it down. “Let me, go see what’s happened.”

It was then he heard more people coming, a gasp and cry from behind them. Kristoff looked to Anna, wanting to be sure before he left her. She smiled at him, reassuringly, and then he stood. 

He turned to see a small crowd already forming, some turning their heads just so and showing the same look of horror that was on Eliza’s face.

“Step aside.” He called, pushing through the crowd. No one seemed to move, nor breath for that matter. There was a recognizable air of fear surrounding them, one that made Kristoff prepare himself for what was before him.

The scene made Kristoff freeze.

It was another body.

A headless body. 

The murderer had struck once more, but not in the dark of the night. No, they did it when everyone had become comfortable, had been off enjoying a beautiful day and seeming to forget the deaths that had recently plagued them.

The man was well dressed, and Kristoff knew immediately that he had to be a Westergaard. 

He remembered someone mentioning, either today in the market or during his time here, that one of the brothers was seeing the school teacher. In fact, they were set to marry within the coming months. 

“My gods, no, Rupert!”

Kristoff looked over, seeing George standing beside him, completely pale as he had been days before. “Your brother?”

George nodded, tears forming in the man’s eyes. “I just spoke to him…just moments before but…”

“But?”

George glared at the body, then looked over to Kristoff. “He had to meet with someone, said they wanted to speak with him about something.”

Kristoff knew the look in the man’s eyes all too well, saw the anger and recognition burning within them. It wouldn’t take much for the anger to turn to pure rage, and that could make a man do horrid things. He couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t let an innocent man turn into a monster.

Kristoff moved, coming over to him wrapping his arm around his shoulders to appear as though he was comforting the man. In reality, Kristoff held George tightly, keeping him in place and not running off to commit another crime. 

“George.” Kristoff whispered, seeing the man clench his jaw, “George, listen to me, who was it that he was meeting? You have to tell me.”

“Why?” He said, turning to look at him, “Why must I tell you?” and not kill him myself.

“You’re a good man George.” Kristoff said, hoping desperately his words would hit something, anything to calm the raging man in his arms. “You kill them, then I’ll have to arrest you and take you away. Think of your wife, your children.” That struck a nerve, the right one as Kristoff felt the man slowly begin to stop resisting. “Let me do the justice, let me handle them.”

A moment past till George finally nodded in agreement, looking back to his fallen brother.

“Who was he meeting with George?” Kristoff asked, already knowing the answer.

“Hans.”

Kristoff nodded, releasing the man as he turned to make his way back through the crowd and to find Hans. He felt George behind him, following him as he pushed through. 

The mortician came up to them, huffing and puffing, asking for an explanation. George took the initiative, beginning to explain the death along with who was behind all this. 

Kristoff’s eyes narrowed, looking around them realizing that someone was not here. 

Eliza was now standing, a few other ladies around her, comforting her as best they could as she sobbed openly to them. 

But Anna was not with them. 

“Oi,” Kristoff called, catching one of the ladies attention. “Where is Anna?”

“Miss Rendel?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, she was helping Eliza but said she had to go, mentioning something about finding her fiancè.”

_Fuck._

“Did you see which way she was heading?”

“Believe to his residents to inform him, poor dear–”

Kristoff heard nothing more as he took off running.

**—**

In hindsight, he should have asked exactly where Hans’ home was. Better yet, paid attention to when Anna most likely mentioned it’s whereabouts before.

He wanted to run back, ask the woman where exactly the home was but he didn’t have time.

In the beginning, Hans had been a suspect merely because of his last name. Kristoff considered the idea of a blood feud, anger that sat within the children and they disguised their deed by killing the pastor and the farm boy. 

But, Hans made mistakes. 

It hadn’t been announced openly, Kristoff only learning about it from George during a late dinner at his residence, that Brum was to take over managing the shops. It was a work in progress, one that required extensive paperwork as technically, it was supposed to go to George. Though seeing as George had his hands full enough now being the new leader of the village, he passed it on to Brum. 

No one outside the family, spare for Kristoff and the family lawyer, knew of the exchange. When he died along with his wife, Kristoff knew immediately it was a family member behind the attacks. 

The pastor and farm boy had been merely a decoy, one to try to throw suspicions away from a family killing and to scare the residence, perhaps to try to push his brothers out of town to spare the bit of blood on his hands. The spreading of the story of the tale of the horseman only helped push the narrative and fear, while also helping keep the true identity of the killer from reaching the surface. Two brothers and their families were already preparing to depart after the death of Brum, three moving right after the death of their father. 

George hadn’t been surprised, mentioning how his brothers never really did like it here. 

“Most of them dreamed of a new life elsewhere, to create and have their own hold somewhere that wasn’t passed down.” 

Kristoff couldn’t blame them. Creating their own life with no assistance was something more to be proud of than helpings given on a silver platter. 

With that, there were only six brothers left to manage. 

Something Kristoff was sure Hans would easily go through as he saw today. 

Killing another brother, in broad daylight, was an act of desperation. Hans was getting impatient, wanting his hand deep within the town fortune now. 

Rupert being the oldest left was most likely to be given control of the shops now, and again, Hans made a mistake taking him out so quickly. 

Kristoff had known immediately upon realizing who it was that laid dead behind the shop that it was Hans, but he needed complete confirmation from George before he could do anything.

Thankfully, he did. 

Now though, now he was on the clock.

He should have never left Anna alone, the possibility of her becoming a victim herself was always probable though highly unlikely in Kristoff’s mind. 

Mostly because with Anna, Hans would be greatly more powerful with her on his arm. Killing her, before the marriage, would lead to him getting nothing from her. It was far more beneficial to marry her, to keep her close until the marriage was made official.

Therefore, Anna had been safe, for now at least.

It took Kristoff longer than he’d like to see a home that he recognized as Hans. He moved towards the front of the home but stopped, knowing he couldn’t enter through the front or it would give him away, potentially putting Anna in more danger than she already was.

So quickly, he ran to the back of the home, jumping over the small fence.

Coming to the back door, Kristoff pressed his ear gently to the wood. He could make out two voices, one he could recognize anywhere.

Anna was here, but more importantly still alive.

For now at least. 

Kristoff grabbed hold of the door handle, slowly turning it so as to not make a sound. The Gods seemed to be looking over him as he was able to open and push the door open with barely a squeak.

It was then he heard the voices more clearly. 

“–lie to me Hans.”

“I’m not lying Anna dear, I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know it was you!”

That made Kristoff freeze, the house becoming deathly still at Anna’s accusations. He held his breath, standing still in the doorway. 

“Anna.”

“You spoke of coming into a fortune, of getting your own when we met. You talked so eagerly about how you were going to come into the business, especially after your father died. I wasn’t suspicious then, but I should’ve been.”

“Anna, I’d be very careful–”

“Laura had told me about the deal, about the shops going to Brum.” That was technically a lie, Kristoff having been the one to mention the new deal coming into play to her during one late night discussion. Though Anna had gone to talk to Laura to get more information about it, as Kristoff had only heard mention of it and not the full details, returning that day with the biggest smile Kristoff had ever seen on her face at the notion she’d helped him with his case. “They were delighted, thrilled but she strictly told me to tell no one. That no one in town knew, except for the family.”

“Dearest–”

“When they died, I knew. I knew then but I dismissed it, not wanting to think you could ever sink so low as to kill your own family, your own brother, your father.”

“You knew nothing of my father.” The change in Hans’ tone made Kristoff pause, his eyes widening in surprise at the venom that came with his words. “He was a proud, selfish git, caring for no one but himself.”

“That’s not true, he cared for you deeply–”

“I was the thirteenth son, he didn’t give a shit about me.”

“Yes he did!”

“He left me nothing!”

“That’s a lie!”

Hans laughed then, “A few thousands pounds? What the fuck am I to do with it in this town? I didn’t want his money, I wanted the town. He practically gave me nothing.”

“You wanted the power.”

“Yes, sweet dearest. I wanted the town in my grasp and mine alone. I wanted the town to look to me as their leader, as their keeper of it all. The money meant nothing without a bit of power at play.” 

“And Brum threw a wrench in the whole thing.”

Kristoff heard Hans groan, footsteps moving a few paces in a room at the front of the home, just a couple of yards in front of Kristoff. 

“Not just Brum, George with his generous self gave it away. Gave the shops, the family business away like it was nothing. To Brum of all people. I was the one that helped stock those shelves since I was a child, I was the one that ran them when the others didn’t want to, and yet I get no say in anything. I get nothing.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to them?”

Hans barked a laugh, “Talking is useless, you learn that quickly in a large family.”

Kristoff placed his hand to his waist, finding his revolver sitting in his holster. The room was now feet away, so he kept himself pressed tightly against the wall to avoid being seen. 

“So I came up with a plan, deciding if Father wasn’t going to give me what I wanted, then I’d do it myself. I didn’t have the time nor the patience to wait for him to die, so I sped it up a bit.” 

Footsteps moved across the floor, Hans’ voice seeming to be just behind the wall Kristoff was pressed against. He needed to look inside, to spy where Anna was but he needed to be sure Hans was not looking to him. 

“Of course I knew suspicions would immediately turn to the family, to the many sons he had. So, to save face, I took the pastor as well. Poor man was on the way out anyways.” 

Hans’ seemed to move across the room, but still it wasn’t safe enough. 

“The farm boy hadn’t been in the initial plans but the fools in this town still talked of one of us killing Father. I heard someone mention the tale of the horseman and I knew, I knew I had to run with this new idea. So, I found some old clothes and played the part, he just happened to be at the right place at the right time.”

Kristoff took a slow breath, deciding he had to take his chance now. He peeked around, careful to not lean too far.

Anna was against the far wall, pain and furry on her face. She stood tall, her eyes firmly on Hans who stood to Kristoff’s left, his back to him. 

“Then George broke the news about Brum, and I was livid.” Something broke then, a glass figure smashing to the ground. Anna shrieked, jumping back slightly at the show of anger. “The idiot just gave him everything, all of it like it was so easy to do. And oh, did Brum love it. He loved every bit of it the fucking brute.” He said through grit teeth, “I couldn’t let him have it. Not the one chance I could have at power till I was able to go for burgomaster.”

“I knew you went to see them that night.” Anna said through tears, Hans laughing once more at her. 

“Oh yes, I did. The wine was lovely, the food bland as always.”

“I knew then,” Anna said through a shaky voice, though Kristoff watched as she stood tall in front of such a maniacal monster. “I knew but I ignored it, I didn’t want to believe it until today.”

“Ah, poor Rupert, another one that’d gotten in the way.”

“Eliza had told me, today in the market. Said she had big news to tell me, something she and Rupert were so excited for. That she was waiting for him to return from meeting with you to tell me.”

“The blabbermouth.” It was then, Hans being out of view with his back turned that Kristoff stuck his head out. Anna spotted him immediately, their eyes meeting for just a moment before he ducked back behind the doorway. He couldn’t move yet, couldn’t act as he needed to hear Hans’ confession, but letting Anna know he was here was enough. “Guess she’ll be next.”

“There won’t be a next,” Anna said firmly, raising her chin at him, “I won’t let you lay another hand on someone. When Kristoff finds out…”

“Kristoff won’t know.” Hans said, venom dripping with his words now. He turned, Kristoff moving back before he could be seen. “The idiot is too engulfed with the idea of a potential horseman apparition to even be looking at me. I made sure of that.” There were footsteps towards the wall Kristoff was behind, the sound of a drawer opening, something heavy being pulled from inside. “If only my aim had been better that night.”

“He knows where I am Hans, he knows I’m with you.”

“No matter, he still won’t hear a word from you.” Kristoff risked another peak and didn’t need to see anything more than the ax in Hans’ hand to move. “Shame really, I was quite looking forward to our wedding.” 

Taking a step into the doorway, Kristoff fired before Hans had even so much as raised the ax. Anna ducked, Hans crying in pain as the bullet struck him and fell to the floor. 

It was silent then, the smell of gunpowder filling the room along with a soft ringing echoing within the home.

Hans didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. 

Kristoff kept his gun to him, moving hastily to kick the ax from his hands. He knelt beside him, seeing a pool of blood beginning to form underneath Hans. Still not convinced, he pressed his fingers to his neck. 

Hans Westergaard was dead.

**—**

Kristoff had tried to extend his days in Sleepy Hollow for as long as he could manage, unable to bring himself to leave so soon after the events that took place.

Anna had cried in his arms after he’d saved her, tears he assumed were of sadness and anger. 

He’d find out, later, over tea back at the inn with her once again tucked deep within her blanket that she’d tell the truth. 

“I wasn’t sad, not for him at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was…well, I was angry more than anything. Angry that such a horrible person could do such a thing, with no care, and it being him. That I had trusted someone like him.”

“He fooled everyone, not just you.”

“I know but…it was infuriating all the same to have fallen for it all. To be blinded to him.”

“You weren’t though, you knew. You’d known for a long time.”

“If I’d acted sooner though…”

“We couldn’t have.” He’d assured her, grabbing her hand, “It was too soon and we didn’t have enough to prove it.”

“I know I just…I feel like such a fool.”

“You are no fool Anna Rendel. You solved this case just as much as I did. You’re the smartest, bravest person I know. Better than any constable that’s for sure.”

Anna laughed then, “Now you’re just trying to make me smile.”

“I’m not.” Kristoff said, the seriousness in his tone ceasing her giggles. “You truly are the brightest person I’ve ever met.”

That had made her smile, though it fell soon after.

“I just wish I could stop crying. He doesn’t deserve these tears.”

“Nothing wrong with crying.” Kristoff said, encouraging her, “You’re not crying for him, but for everyone else. You’ve been through a lot, we all have. You have to let it out somehow.”

She’d smiled at him once more, but the tears followed soon after, falling fast and hard. Kristoff held her close, holding her against his chest until the last tear fell.

**—**

It was now or never.

Kristoff was finished packing, the last of his things gone and stowed away in his luggage. 

This was it, the final day and he had to ask, had to know. 

Finding Anna was easy enough, she was humming along in the kitchen, the sound catching his ears and bringing a smile to Kristoff’s face. 

She must of heard him coming down the stairs, for as he entered the kitchen she spoke:

“If you’re willing to wait, I have lunch nearly ready. That way you won’t be hungry when you travel.”

“Oh um,” Kristoff was caught by surprise, seeing Anna look over her shoulder at him from where she stood at the counter. “Thank you I think that I–”

“Oh! And I put a bag of carrots with your things as well, for Sven. Don’t want him getting hungry either.” 

She was avoiding, dodging his words and Kristoff had a sneaking suspicion of why. 

_She doesn’t want you to say goodbye._

The notion made his heart flutter.

“Anna.”

“I hope you will come visit, at least once? The town is quiet lovely when there is not some murderous wealthy, snobby, piece of–”

“Anna.”

“Either way, I know it must be a journey so I understand if you don’t want to–”

“Anna, come with me.”

Anna stopped then, standing completely still and Kristoff realized he’d let the words slip out before he could even fully get her attention.

_Idiot._

Slowly, she turned to face him, looking to him with surprise. “What?”

Kristoff coughed, looking anywhere but her before taking a breath, gathering his courage and walking to her. He grabbed her hands, looking at them and seeing how small, how perfectly they fit in his palm. 

“Come with me.” He whispered, unable to look at her just yet. “Come with me, if you want to of course, to the city. I…I have never known my path, my true direction but now…Anna,” He looked up then, looking into her wide, blue eyes. “My path, my direction is you.”

There was an audible silence, both calming and nerve wracking all at once. 

It was broken by the sound of Anna giggling, a sound that reminded Kristoff of soft bells. 

Then, her hands went to either side of his face and pulled him down to her, her lips finding his. 

He blinked, fully taken by surprise by the bold move, then followed her lead and kissed her back, overwhelmed by all that was Anna. He held her tightly, letting his hand slip up to the base of her scalp, holding her head in his hands. 

He could feel her smiling against his lips, humming at the feeling. 

When they finally pulled back, her hands now gripping his shirt, she smiled up at him, the blush on her cheeks bringing out her freckles in the most beautiful way. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
